Like Blood
by QueenofDiamondss
Summary: Cowritten from a ficlet by TwinsOfABlackRose on DeviantArt. Basically Czes tries to kill Claire. Claire is shaken by seeing his blood for the first time in years. You have been Gore Warned!
1. Like Blood 1

**TwinsOfABlackRose**  
It was like blood. The warmness and texture as it dripped down his cheek. He closed his eyes before opening again. Something wasn't quite right, it smelt like blood as well...eyes closed again and he took a deep breath before sitting up looking from side to side. His eyes were red in the reflection of the blood on the side of his face. His suit was stained red and there was a throbbing feeling in his chest. This wasn't right, the world was his how could this happen?  
He coughed and watched the blood spill onto his clean (or at least once clean) sheets in horror..."No!" He shouted throwing the sheets off of his bed cradling his head gently; he stared up at the window. The image of a small child stood there and it pointed at him.  
"You killed me..."  
"I never regret it," the man replied running his fingers through his sticky hair.  
"I'm no illusion."  
"I'll kill you again."  
"Look at your head?" The child laughed, "That blood isn't going to stop any time soon, so say your good byes while you still can."  
His eyes flicked back and forth between the walls, his hands and the child that disappeared of the balcony.  
The man stood from his bed going out the door down to a room and knocked on the door gently, "Luck..." he whispered and the door opened.  
A brunette man stared back at the other, looked him up and down then spoke, "God Vino what have you done?" He asked letting him in.  
"It was the kid," he said sitting down, "he's after me and he's gonna get me..."  
"You seem afraid," Luck leant against his desk staring back down at Vino, "is there a reason?"  
Vino looked up at him. Fear? He had never felt that before...well...wait...once before...long ago...  
"I'm not afraid," his words were firm and spoke only the truth, "in fact I am quite excited."  
Vino looked scary when the blood was on his face and he grinned like that, but Luck felt a twitch of sadness. That was Vino's blood and unlike himself Vino was no immortal.

**LOKIforDREAMS  
**

Luck found his adoptive brother at the kitchen table the next morning. The red head was stirring what must have been his eighth pot of coffee from the amount of used coffee filters in the trash can. Either Claire was trying to drink himself to death, or he'd been up all night. Or at least since Luck had bandaged his wounds and sent him back to bed.  
"Are you alright, Claire?"  
Claire looked up from the once white mug at his brother. Having almost died a few hours ago didn't faze him quite as much as seeing Luck in the doorway (again) looking like he'd seen a ghost. Claire gave his little brother a smile and lied, "Yeah just fine. I slept on the couch, but that kid din't come back."  
"The couch?"  
"Come on, Luck. You din't expect me to sleep in my own blood, didja? That's just bad taste."  
Luck mentally slapped himself, how could he have forgotten? Because these days, he half expected the blood to go back to its owner. It disturbed him, having to break out the old first aid kit, the one he only kept around for appearances, to use on Claire. Hell, Luck didn't remember the last time he'd seen the red head get injured. Wait, wasn't it? That one day, so long ago . . .  
Taking a seat across from him, Luck said, "You should have mentioned it. You know there's always space in my room. You don't need to sleep on the couch." Claire shrugged and went back to staring into his coffee cup. He wasn't going to admit to Luck that he'd been awake since that kid had decided to try and stick a knife into him. The adrenaline rush had subsided hours ago without any killing to keep it up, so he'd resorted to coffee. He didn't want to sleep after being reminded of . . . . that.  
His brother was talking again. "I'll have the landlady get some new sheets. And I'll send someone out to track that kid down and take care of him." Claire found himself looking up, unaware that he had that look in his eye. That one, murderous and insane glint that made his brown eyes look red as blood. "No need. I'll take care of him myself, Luck. As many times as I need to."

**TwinsOfABlackRose  
**

Luck sat down at the table wondering where Berga and Keith had gone off to, he didn't want to have to deal with Claire when he came back, oh wait he wanted to be called Vino now. Luck shook his head flipping the newspaper out starting to read an article, he wasn't going to change the way he called his brother. His name was Claire and that was final, his name was Claire when he was adopted and he would be Claire when he died. To Luck and the other Gandor brother's at least.  
He closed the newspaper looking at the staircase, Claire had gone up for a shower but he was taking much too long for his likings. Luck closed the paper and started to walk up the stairs cupping his hand over his mouth, "Claire?" He took another few steps; the staircase was creaky as ever, "Claire are you okay?" He knocked on the bathroom door worried before waiting for an answer.  
"What?" Claire opened the door as he was buttoning his trench coat up; there was scabbing starting on the side of his head.  
"Let me bandage ya up," Luck said starting to walk down the stairs again, "also I looked into help for you..."  
Claire cut him off, that murderous intent shining in his eyes again, "And din't I say I'd do it by myself?"  
"You'll have to," he said, "everyone is friends with tha kid."  
"Tch," Claire stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat strutting down the stair case, his eyes showing weariness from not sleeping.  
He stopped when he reached the kitchen looking for something to eat, "You need to go shopping!" He called out before grabbing a loaf of bread carving the knife through violently.  
"Claire!" Luck grabbed the knife before it cut into the fine oak that had cost their family quite a bit to get a hold of, "Save that for when you find tha kid."  
Claire took the bread wrapping it up in the sports section of the newspaper before shoving it into his pocket, "I'm gonna go for a walk," he said opening the door, "don't follow me."

It was winter and the snow covered the footpath and ice on the roads, he walked with his head glaring out in front, the stride of his legs bold and brave. He hadn't let his brother wrap a bandage around his head but his hair did well to hide the scab.  
He stood at the train station watching the conductors and trains come and leave the station, as he did he carefully reached into his pocket eating the bread slowly watching the people he recognized from trips of past and those who refused to go on a train because of the incident. Once he had finished eating he threw the newspaper into a bin and started to walk again.  
He walked to the other side of town to a church; he walked through the stone archway into the graveyard. The snow piled high over ones whose family members were dead or didn't care and others were clean and had flowers. Claire made his way to the back where there was a small mound of snow, he bent down wiping the snow off with his gloved hand and slowly a tiny grave stone became visible. He wiped the rest of the snow away from it and a bit around the edges.  
Claire placed his hand firmly on the stone, "Heya Tony," he said in the most cheerful voice he could muster, "Sorry I haven't been here for so long, things been happenin' you know?"  
Tony's body was found in a pretty bad state and Claire paid for a grave but at the time he didn't have much money on him, and he knew Tony wouldn't want something big. He had no family; just like Claire. Maybe that's why he felt such a strong connection to the old man.  
"This is gonna sound stupid but some kid is after me," he smiled, "I'm not the innocent 'young conductor' you thought I was, I should have told you earlier that I was the Rail Tracer...too late now, I guess that'd be my one regret."  
He stood up bravely wiping the excess snow off his glove, "Anyway I've got to find some information about the kid, where he's staying," he paused, "I guess I could go to that darned Nicholas..." he turned around to see a young family go to a grave and cry. As he walked out from the graveyard he noticed the inscription of the grave, or at least part of it. 'A victim of the Flying Pussyfoot incident...'  
"Tch," and with that he left the grave yard going down to the Daily Days. He was going to regret this.

The daily days was an odd place. It looked like a newspaper from the outside but once inside you could ask information about anyone given the right price. Although he'd have to be careful, under their desks they kept guns. And even though Claire had none he still worried. This trip would mean they'd have information about him, information he was sure other families would love to know.  
Nicholas Wayne was blonde and looked like a cheery person; always happy to serve and give the wanted information.  
"Have a nice day!" Was the first thing Claire heard before stepping in.  
Nicholas's face fell and a look of horror took over as he collapsed to the floor, "I need some information," he said knowing if they gave him nothing all he'd have to do was find that Rachel girl again.  
"Nicholas what's wrong with you," one of the men whispered as Nicholas tried to compose himself.  
"I can pay information about myself for the information you can give me about a child named Czeslaw Meyer," he stared down, "except he is no child. He is an immortal."


	2. Like Blood 2

**LOKIforDREAMS  
**

Nicholas froze as his worst nightmare strolled right into the Daily Days. He slowly sank to the floor behind the counter, wishing that the boards would move to swallow him up. Ever since that night he'd been hung off the back of a freight train, he'd been deathly afraid that Vino would one day walk through that door. Like he'd just done.  
One of his typists leaned over and asked what was wrong with him, but Nicholas couldn't say. He was flashing back to watching the train tracks flashing past, inches from his nose. Not only had he had to ride a second train back, Elean never let him forget it. Shaking through Claire's proposal, he pointed over, but couldn't get more than, "I-i-i-immortals? Th-that's not my department!"  
Amused by the quaking man on the floor, Claire felt his spirits lighten just a little. "Well who do I hafta talk ta? I'd be nice if you tol me before you pass out, alright?" He asked, leaning on the counter. The room was dead silent, except for Nicholas's whimpering. Suddenly a black man hurried up to the counter yelling to the room, "Come on! Come on! Remember all the homeless people who'd love your jobs right now ya'll!" Soon the sound of phones and papers filled the front office again. Turning to Nicholas, Elean prodded the fear stuck man with his toe. "Will you get up? You're ruining our reputation here!"  
Claire stood back and watched as the black man pulled his friend into a chair before turning, rather professionally he thought, to Claire, "I'm sorry about that sir. Would you follow me and step into the president's office, please?"  
"Now dats what I call service, eh Buddy?" Claire playfully, and viciously, ribbed the shell shocked blonde as he passed him. His words were a little late, however, for the man had already passed out. Elean led him back into the president's office, where he was left on the couch with a tea cup in front of him, facing the mountain of papers. After all the coffee that morning, he ignored the tea. "So, Mr. Stanfield. You have an interest in finding one of the immortals?" The president asked after some time of silence.  
"Call me Vino. And yeah, I guess ya could say I'm lookin for him." Claire grinned, his imagination running away with all the things he was going to do with that little . . . . . But first he had to find him. "Alright, Vino. You do realize we require payment for our information services. Something about yourself perhaps?" Claire sighed. Now was the part he'd been dreading since he left Tony's grave. Instead of a straight answer, though, he tried to side step the question.  
"I'm not sure what there is that you guys don already know about me." Then voice behind the desk chuckled, a jovial sound that made Claire want to strangle the throat that made the sound, just to get him to stop. "How about the reason you are planning to kill a ten year old boy?"  
How did he know? Claire was sure of one thing at this point. Well, two really: his own ability, and that this guy gave him the creeps. He decided to drink the tea anyways. "How bout dis for a reason?" He sighed, lifting his bangs to show the fairly large scab receding into his hairline. The president gave an appreciative "MmHmmm" but otherwise, said nothing.  
"I don't see why you didn't go to the Martillos though. After all, you're friends there have adopted him." Claire shifted. He'd figured that was the case when he'd found that girl Rachel talking with the kid there. But he really didn't want to have to explain to Firo and company why he wanted to torture Czes. Torture, after all, was probably the right word for murdering someone who wouldn't die. His method of murdering anyways.  
"Although with your intentions, I'm not surprised." The assassin on the couch jumped slightly, pulled suddenly out of his own thoughts. "An how do you know what my intentions are?" Claire asked, standing up. The guy behind that desk was really starting to irritate him. "This is an information broker, Mr. Stanfield. If we had no information, we would have no business."  
Claire turned the doorknob, throwing a quick line over his shoulder, "I guess that's all the information yer getting outta me then, huh?" But when he pulled open the door and started to leave, he almost ran into Elean, who was listening at the door and quickly backed up as the homicidal customer left the offices of the Daily Days.

**TwinsOfABlackRose  
**

Claire groaned leaving the Daily Days; they were no hope at all. With a sigh he started to make his way across the back alleys thinking through everything he had done to this point. It was bad to lie and betray friends especially those who are friends with your family but the idea of simply talking to Firo sat in the back of his mind. He wouldn't though because where Firo was Ennis wasn't far and Czeslaw had become attached to Ennis. It was during this long period of thinking and walking with his hands in his pockets when a familiar cheery voice echoed behind him.  
"Hey Claire!"  
Claire smiled smugly as not to show his tension and want of not to meet the other at this particular moment, "Ah Firo," he said turning around pulling his hand from his pocket to shake his friends, "it's been a long time!"  
"Too long for my likings," he said shaking it back ecstatically, "I heard you're not a conductor anymore."  
"Yeah gone straight down the path of assassination," now was a good a time as any and he may not have this chance again. He hoped that Firo would forgive him for what he was about to say.  
"How has things been with you?" He asked, "Heard you an Ennis adopted some kid..."  
"Yeah his name is Czeslaw," Firo didn't know what Claire had done to him, Czes kept quiet about that kinda stuff around him, "he's really quite cute, Ennis is with him at the park. You want to meet him?"  
Claire's fingers twitched in his pockets and a smile came over his face, what do I do? He thought. He had a few options at this time;  
He could take the offer and meet with Czes and Ennis.  
He could run and find Czes.  
Or he could hold his ground and wait, but if he waited Czes might get the upper hand and plan another attack.  
"Claire you okay?" Firo's voice showed small amounts of horror, "You're...are you...going pale?"  
Claire immediately snapped back and waved Firo off gently, "Please, call me Vino~"  
"If ya say so," Firo still thought something was off when he watched Claire stride calmly away. But he really didn't have anything to worry about he thought; Claire out of anyone in this world would be the least likely of all people to get himself into some trouble. Still, he decided it would be a good idea to check in with Luck to see how things were going.

Claire made it to the park and waited on a bench, so many kids, so many of whom were the appropriate age.  
"I can't wait to kill you again," he muttered under his breath then saw two figures coming into view. From what he had heard about Ennis she was the type of person he wouldn't want to have a brawl with in the middle of the park at mid-day. He decided it would be safer to find Czes at a more convenient time. That didn't stop him from speaking with him today or at least showing his appreciation to the runt.  
Czeslaw and Ennis walked hand in hand past the red head, only Czes turned back to double take at the man holding his fringe up so the scab was visible as he slowly mouthed the words, 'Can't kill me that easily'.  
Czeslaw shivered before matching his smirk mouthing a couple of words back, 'Unlike you I can get help'.  
What did he mean by that? Was he saying that he found someone who'd help him dispose of him? No! He could not take that from a little kid, he had to find out who this 'help' was and he had to do it fast. Time was running out. He'd been walking all over the city and it was nearing afternoon and soon it'd be night then no one could help him and he'd be vulnerable. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

Luck cut the deck of cards then started to shuffle them again idly; he wasn't preparing them for anyone just shuffling to pass the time as he listened to Firo talk from the other side of the table. In times like these he would agree with him and the Martillo's but Claire was closer so he'd do everything is his power to protect him.  
"So you can see why I thought it was odd," Firo said watching luck pull the aces from the deck putting them on the table. Luck was quite good at reading a deck of cards he remembered, and not to make a pun, but he was quite lucky as well.  
"This is Claire you're talkin' 'bout right?" He looked up with an eye closed.  
"Well yeah who else?"  
Luck put the aces back in this time pulling forth the pair of jokers skimming them across the table to Firo, "Then why are you worryin'?" He smiled putting the card down pouring himself a drink, "Go home to Ennis and tha kid, Claire'll be fine."  
Firo put his hat on his head and made his way to the door, no it wasn't fine. Why was Claire at the Daily Days? He may have been doing a favor for Luck but that was unlikely.  
"See you later then," he said closing the door behind him.  
Luck sat back down sipping at his drink looking down at the cards in front of him, "Come on Claire," he said flicking the Queen over the table so it knocked the jokers off, "get it together."

**LOKIforDREAMS  
**

That night, fully aware that he was not a child and could look after himself; Ennis let Czes leave her apartment, like she did almost every night. He was almost like a cat; he kept to himself, he only had a few people he thoroughly trusted, and he kept to odd hours. Ennis sometimes wondered where the boy went, but she didn't think too hard about it. After all, what trouble could a ten year old really stir up? Actually, that was the part she tried not to think about. Czes was too cunning to be left alone, but she couldn't exactly stop him.

Czeslaw Meyer was far too cunning. After failing to kill the Rail Tracer last night, he know he was much too small to do it by himself. Luckily, Czes was old enough to know how to get other people to do whatever he wanted. And he'd heard of just the person he wanted to do this for him. Czes just needed to find him.

~Flashback~ *earlier that day*  
"Hey Firo?" Czes asked, climbing onto the barstool next to the brunette. Firo set down his drink and looked down at the boy. "What's up Czes?" The innocent look in his eyes suddenly turned to a steely glint. "I was thinkin, you know that guy they arrested from the Flying Pussyfoot? Ladd Russo?"

"Yeah. Din he shoot yer head off or somethin?" Firo asked, reminding himself that he was the younger one here. The boy was something like two hundred years older, after all. And, until now, Czes had simply been a smart little bastard. That sweet young voice that would never crack, asked, "Didn't he have a gang in New York? Where are they?"

Once again, Firo was caught off guard. "I dunno, kid. The warehouses by the pier maybe. Why didja wanna know?" This made Czes smile, sickeningly sweet. "I wanted to know so I could make sure not to go there. I don't wanna get shot again, now do I?" Then he ran off, his grin turning malicious as soon as his back was turned.  
~End Flashback~

Czes found himself in his third or fourth warehouse of the night. He'd found three drug junkies, a squat of homeless men, and the largest rat's nest he'd ever seen, before he found the right place. He'd actually heard it long before he got into the warehouse. Someone inside was rambling and, by the sound of it, breaking something. He snuck inside through an open window and settled himself on an oil barrel until the blonde noticed him.

It took about ten minutes of insane rambling and smashing whatever was available. Graham finally stopped, tossing and catching his favorite wrench as he started talking again, more calm and controlled than before. "Lemme tell ya a sad, sad story. A little mouse gets lost. He doesn't know where he's goin. So the little mouse runs into a big ol cave ta get outta the open see, where he might get hurt. But the mousie doesn't know that he just scurried into the home of a big ol bear. So what does the mousie do? He could go back outside. But he might get hurt. He could stay, but the bear'd just squash the mouse widout thinkin about it. Maybe the mousie knows where he is? Maybe he's too scared ta move? Even when the bear's got his paws on him. Poor, poor mousie. What a sad little mouse."

Instead of listening to anymore of the 'story', Czes decided to speak up. "Oh I know where I am. And I know who you are, Mr. Specter." From what he could see of the blonde's face, Czes was glad that the man was staying where he was. There were crazy people, Czes thought. And then there were people who reminded him of Fermet. This guy was one of those people.

"Oh? The mouse thinks he can play with the big boys eh?" Graham saw a flash of fear in the small boy's eyes. He liked that. Even if it was a child, this kid was smart to be afraid of him. But the kid wasn't running away, like most of his boys had tried to do.

"Actually, I was wondering if you would do a favor for me. You know someone named Claire Stanfield, right?" Czes asked, steeling himself to make this deal. Graham grinned at the name. He knew that name. He hated that name. His wrench left his hand, crunching into the concrete beneath him. "You jokin with me kid? Of course I know that bastard!"

Czes leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. "Then have I got a deal for you..."

~~~~~

Luck got back to the apartment late. He'd been called out when something happened with the family business that Berga couldn't handle. As he closed the front door, he noticed that Claire had gotten home already. Which was odd in itself but his adoptive brother was not in sight. And every light in the apartment was on. Hanging his coat next to Claire's, Luck went around the place, flicking off the lamps.

When he got to Claire's bedroom, he noticed the light was off and slowly opened the door. Nothing. With Claire's current mood since last night, Luck was expecting the other man to throw a knife or something. But nothing happened. Looking inside, his eyes adjusted until he could make out a figure huddled in the corner on top of Claire's bed. It was Claire, holding one of the bigger kitchen knives protectively. Wide awake.

Luck sighed. It couldn't go on like this. Even as amazing as Claire was, he couldn't run on no sleep without going truly insane. He remembered back when he'd been six. Claire had been seven and, whenever it was rainy or something happened that had scared Luck, really scared him, Claire would let him baby brother sleep in his bed with him. Now it looked like roles had reversed themselves. The red head was the scared one.

Moving into the room, Luck gently took the kitchen knife from his brother and took him by the arm. "Come on, Claire." Claire followed his brother out into the kitchen, sleep deprived, mumbling, "It's Vino." Where we goin?" Ignoring this, Luck replaced the knife in the drawer and led his brother back to his own room. "We're going to my room. You're sleeping with me tonight."

Claire didn't object.


	3. Like Blood 3

**TwinsOfABlackRose  
**

Luck stared down at his brother sleep; he had been so tired it didn't take him even a minute to fall into a deep slumber.

Luck needed a drink, he turned on the small bed-side lamp and reached for a bottle pouring it into a small glass drinking from it, he hadn't seen Claire this scared for nearly eighteen years or so and it wasn't a good feeling. He put his drink down with a thump and switched the light off lying down next to Claire staring at the roof above him. His room was the same as it had been when he was a child and his father was head of the Gandor's and him and his brothers watched the actions of the family from the top of the staircase ever interested in what it would be like someday. They all had a pretty good grasp of what death was and how it worked so when Claire came they felt for him, at least Berga and Keith did. Luck laughed remembering how he had first welcomed Claire into the family.

~~~~

"Hey~" Little Luck called running down, he was six years old and interested in anything especially cards, he put his hands on his hips pouting, "HEY!"  
Claire, seven years old, looked up from his train. His eyes were as blank as anything and he always seemed mad.  
"Hey Claire whaddya playin' with?" Luck asked sitting down next to him.  
"Leave me alone!" Claire stood grabbing his train storming out of the room.  
Luck wondered what was wrong with the boy so he followed him like a little chick all the way to his bed room.

Claire spun around, "Why are you following me?"  
"Because you're my new big brother~" Luck was an innocent child and just wanted friends, he couldn't work out why this new kid was always so tense and emotionless.  
Claire growled putting his train on his bed, why was this kid glued to him? Why didn't he have anyone better to play with?  
"What do you want?"  
Luck's eyes widened, finally he could ask the question that was on his mind. He sat down in front of the bed looking up at the red head. His hair was in front of his eye and somewhat distracting but he eventually answered, "What's your problem?"

Claire fell silent and looked at the ground before jumping off the bed punching Luck's arm. Luck had been hit with his brothers but they were play fights this kid meant business, the slight flicker of fear in his eyes proved that he was about to talk.  
"My parents were murdered!" He growled at Luck in anger, "And I was attacked too!"  
He rolled up his sleeves showing bandages on his arms a single tear formed in his eye and rolled down his cheek and Luck stared up.

"F-father said he had to talk to the man," Claire sniffed rubbing his eyes, "he called for mama an' an'...they were shouting with a strange man...father said to call Tony so mama came back an' went to the phone an' called Tony..."  
By this time Berga and Keith entered the room shooting glares at Luck, he'd get a talking to for making their new brother cry.

Claire slid off the bed continuing, "So Tony came an' mama went back to tha door to let tha men in, they sat in the room and talked 'bout stuff that I didn't understand...then a man said 'Enougha dis shit we want the dough' and he pulled a big gun on father..." his voice trailed off and he started to cry, his words became hitched and barely audible, "m-mama ran to me tellin' me t-ta ta run and so T-tony took me an' we left but as I looked back mama fell and then they said it was ma turn...and they...grazed ma arms real bad...father told them to stop but he got shot in tha head...Tony brought me here and said 'This is Claire...please...look after 'im'...an' that's it.."

Luck grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket crawling over to Claire offering it to him, "But now you have us," he said innocently before giving him a big bear hug, "and I have another older brother! I feel so special! Nothing will ever hurt me with you and Berga and Keith here to help me!"

Claire looked at the handkerchief in silence before using it to dry his eyes, "I promise I'll be strong enough to keep you safe," he smiled, "forever!"

~~~~

Luck looked down at Claire's pants seeing a small piece of white cloth, he then carefully reached gently into the pocket to pull out the cloth. He stared at it for a few moments in the corner in gold thread read 'Luck', he put it back gently giving a happy sigh. It would seem that Claire had kept it all this time and never once got it stained with blood or if he did cleaned it to the best of his ability.

"Oh Claire," he laid back looking at the shadow figure in the window, "what are we going to do about you?"  
He reached under the bed pulling out a small hand gun he kept there for safety showing it to Czeslaw.  
The small figure nodded before leaving it's place and the two of them to peace.  
"Thanks kid..." Luck muttered.

**LOKIforDREAMS**

"I get to dismantle WHAT? Oh, oh oh, you got a deal kid! I cannot wait to get started on this job. You are a genius, my friend! A genius! Genius! This is gonna be so much FUN! You don't know how long I been waiting to do somethin this, this big! I got cars down to an art. MY ART. But this, this is nuts! I'm gettin all excited now, hahaha! Ooh I cannot wait; I gotta find somethin to dismantle now! Oh man I'm gonna explode with all this excitement!"

~~~~~~~~

Claire woke up slowly. The first thing he saw was a sea of golden brown. What on earth . . . ? As his consciousness returned him from sleep, he realized he was face down in his brother's hair. After he got in last night, things had gone hazy and he didn't remember much. He remembered taking Luck's favorite steak knife and sitting vigil waiting for that kid to come after him, but the rest was a blank. So how'd he get into Luck's room? And why was his handkerchief on the side table with a bottle of scotch beside it? And a gun? Jeez, had he been drinking?

He dropped his head down and groaned wishing his memory wasn't so foggy. For all he knew, Czes was going to pop up at any moment and ventilate the both of them. The head under him suddenly groaned and started moving, forcing Claire to roll over, off of his little brother. "I'll bite Luck. What da hell happened last night?"

Luck sat up, wishing his brother didn't move around so much when he slept. Somehow, Luck always ended up on the bottom. Claire was looking more than mildly confused, staring rather blankly at the ceiling. Luck rolled over to the nightstand and put the gun back under the bed saying, "Nothing happened, Claire."

"We're both in yer bed, there's halfa bottle left on the table, an I don got a clue what's going on. An I am NOT gay!" Luck's eyebrows jumped up his face. Claire was never good when he skipped sleeping. And after last night, he could see why Claire didn't want to sleep. That Czes kid was almost as bad as Claire after a job. Luck sighed, "Neither am I, Claire. You know that. Nothin happened."

Luck got up quickly and headed for the kitchen. Without looking, he knew the assassin hadn't followed. Claire's behavior had never exactly been predictable but the past few days had unnerved him more than he would admit. But how could he help a guy who would never admit he was terrified. Luck Gandor was good, but he wasn't that good.

Claire wandered into the kitchen about half an hour later, fresh dressed and showered and grabbed a roll, heading for the door just like yesterday. Luck stopped and turn off the stove. "Claire." But neither turned to look at the other. Claire just called over his shoulder, "Stop callin me that, Luck. It's Vino now."

"I know. But you're still going to be Claire to me." Now Claire really did turn around, mouth open ready to tell the mafia boss to shove it. But he stopped when he saw the pained look in his brother's eyes. Deflated, he muttered, "I'm supposed ta be the one keepin you safe!" He left right after that.

Out on the street, Claire was careful not to slip on the icy winter ground as he hurried down the street with no particular destination in mind. Dammit he hated seeing Luck worry. He'd become so carefree in the last couple of years that this problem was making things that much worse. Claire stopped and pulled out the handkerchief, still immaculately white, just as he'd kept it all these years. The symbol of his promise, one that he wasn't sure he was capable of keeping right now.

**TwinsOfABlackRose  
**

Claire made his way down the path eating his breakfast quickly, he wanted to visit the Flying Pussyfoot and see how it was. He wasn't the conductor anymore and he couldn't care less but it was for Tony's sake and he wanted to see it for himself. It had been left out the back of Central Station for the police to check over and they sure were taking their time. Several months it was now but it didn't matter. Slipping past the police wasn't anything close to effort for the assassin.

But what he saw when he turned was anything but an elegant train with police. He stepped over the bodied wondering what could have done such a thing and the parts of train littered around his feet as he got closer to the dining car. Empty. Chairs were torn out and the cogs were visible beneath the torn out carpet. Only one thing was capable of this.

"Let me tell you a sad sad tale," the voice smirked as a large spanner came flying down in front of Claire, "however it is only sad for you, for me it is a happy one. A tale of revenge. But no revenge is such a...such a simple word...this train is amazing so the tale must be as exciting as it was to take this wonderful dream apart." Graham leapt down grabbing his spanner to look Claire in the eye, a shrill smirk across his face, "I assume the feeling of taking this apart will be very similar to that of taking the great assassin Vino apart. I can see it now! 'Humble Mechanic brings crazed assassin Vino to justice in a spectacle of crimson', yes that does sound good don't you agree? Of course you would!"

Claire stood there looking at him, he had almost forgotten how annoying this one was, "Why did ya do dis to Tony's train?" Claire asked, he wasn't a conductor anymore; he could care less about the train. But Tony? No, this was for him. Tony loved to drive the trains and this was injustice against one of the most important people to him.

"Funny story actually some mousey comes to me and he's not frightened you see? I ask him 'why aren't you scared?' and he tells me he's got a deal, so I ask 'what's the deal?' He tells me he's got a grudge against you or something, so I ask 'what do you want me to?' and you know what he said?" Graham paused raising the spanner to the tip of Claire's nose, "He says 'disassemble the Flying Pussyfoot', of course I couldn't decline such a wonderful offer, so I says 'sure thing' next thing I know this sweet piece of elegance is falling down around me. You know police are nothing these days~"

Claire reached over the bar grabbing a knife holding it firmly in his hand, the smirk of violence came across his face as he raced toward Graham, "Sorry buddy but you won't be takin' me apart anytime soon!" He lashed his arm around only skimming it past Graham's face, but a hit was a hit.

"Oh you got some fight in you?" graham ran to the back of what was left of the car swinging his arm before sending his spanner off in a spiraling direction toward Claire.

Claire smirked, this was easy, training in the circus showed him the distance between himself and incoming objects. However he was still sleep deprived, one night was not quite enough, and lingering thoughts distracted him. Thus the assassin fell down as the spanner continued to fly off his fore head lodging itself in the wall of the train.

"Well well," Graham said standing over the bleeding man, "maybe revenge is the appropriate word here. Oh such a sad tale I have woven for you but this is not the end, oh not by far. The 'hero' is still alive and has so many more hardships, he must now go to see the little mousey and only then can his story truly have an end~"

~~~~

Luck put on his coat taking a drink of scotch before leaving out the door, it was much more chilly than he had first expected it to be. There wasn't much he could do about the weather. In his pocket sat snuggly his hand gun, he wouldn't use it, but it did have a single bullet just in case. And in his other pocket was a deck of cards, of which he could pick out any card and it would be the one that he had desired.

Today he wasn't following Claire; today he was strictly on Gandor family business. He was meeting up with Berga and Keith in another city, as Luck locked the door he did worry if Claire would be okay but then he remembered who he was talking about. The note he had left on the dining room table should be enough to explain why he was out of town and for how long he was going to be. He stood on the train watching the station fade in the distance. Nothing could happen in three days could it?

"You look troubled," Keith said opening the newspaper.

"Ah no," Luck took a seat tracing his finger around the rim of the glass in front of him looking at the blood red wine, "Vino will be fine."


	4. Like Blood 4

**LOKIforDREAMS**

'... Police are still baffled by the apparent destruction of the transcontinental express, The Flying Pussyfoot, as well as the deaths of both detectives inspecting the train at the time. No new suspects have been revealed to the public at this time...'

Claire came to and immediately knew one thing, very clearly. His head hurt like hell. Even a long day of work on the trains didn't give him as much of a headache as his throbbing temples told him he had. He moved to soothe the pain; and found he couldn't move. There was a single instant of panic before he realized he was tied up, not paralyzed. Defiantly not a good way to start off his day. He quickly assessed his situation mentally and the facts did not add up well. He was currently bound, or more accurately hogtied. He had a head wound of indeterminate severity that he couldn't check or bandage. It was too dark to see and he was gagged with something that tasted like silk. Running his tongue over the gag, he noticed several ridges that could only be embroidery. It clicked in his head after a second or two. The bastard had gagged him with his own handkerchief!

The next twenty minutes were spent devising several especially gruesome deaths for whoever had done this. Obviously Graham was involved, but he wasn't exactly capable of this level of planning on his own. Claire would think up something really nasty for that bastard once he was untied. No one got away with breaking the Flying Pussyfoot if he had a say in it. He had the sneaking suspicion that little Czeslaw Meyer was behind this. And the brat was going to pay dearly. Both for coming after Claire, and for sending that maniac to destroy the train. That was just wrong.

First things first though. He had to untie himself. Whatever moron had tied him in the first place had assumed Claire would be unable to work the knots in his position. That person was stupid. Anyone with Claire's level of training in the circus would have been out of this in no more than five minutes. Claire was taking longer because he was still disoriented and thinking through a haze of pain. He managed to work his hands around the first of three knots when a light blazed into the small room and blinded him.

"What's this? Trying to escape, huh? That's stupid." Of course, it was that brat. How many others would go to the trouble of kidnapping him? On second thought, being an assassin meant someone always wanted Claire dead. This kid was just a little more tenacious than the others. Technically he'd killed all on his enemies. Czes included. The boy roughly pulled the gag from Claire's mouth, letting him speak for whatever reason.

"So, what'dja plan on doing ta me?" Claire asked, going back to working on the knot, but the searing bright light in his dark-adjusted eyes only added to the amount of pain in his head. Why do so many things have to start hurting him now? The boy bent next to Claire on the tiled floor of what must have been an old bathroom and none too gently, slapped Claire's hands away from the knot. "You should really be more careful. This is a sailor's knot after all. Pull the wrong part and it'll take your hand off." Czes spoke mock-caringly, retying the hard work of the past half hour.

So many words crossed Claire's mind, begging to be shouted out loud at the immortal child, who probably wouldn't have even flinched at them. He didn't say any of them. Instead he calmly asked, "And what do I owe this first-class treatment?"

Czes was tempted to replace the gag. But he really wanted to hear this man scream. Just the way Czes had screamed when his arm was grated away on the train tracks, or any of the other times the Rail Tracer had killed him. "Oh I plan ok killing you. But I can't get blood out of wood really well and I plan on having you bleed quite a lot before you die. And unlike me, you won't be coming back from this death." Czes produced a knife and placed the tip against Claire's throat. "By the end of the week, you should be begging me to spare your pathetic life."

Claire almost laughed. Hearing the words he usually uttered, coming from an eternally prepubescent boy was amusing, almost hilarious. "You're jokin with me, kid. Dat's too rich. Me beg? Not gonna happen." Claire laughed, staring the boy down, nearly delirious with pain. He then uttered the two words he would come to regret for the next two hours, though never out loud. "Bite me."

~~~~~~~~

Czes left the bathroom to get a fresh change of clothes and go home to Ennis and maintain his innocent image. The homunculus would never suspect that he'd been flaying alive a serial killer. Maybe Firo would if he learned that Claire had gone missing, but the happy go lucky mafioso probably wouldn't put two and two together until a body showed up. And if Czes was careful, that wouldn't be for a long while.

Claire had passed out from the pain; moments after the sick twisted child had left. He came to an hour later in a small pool of his own blood, slightly amazed. He hadn't known that it was possible to DO that to a living person without major blood loss. But it still hurt like a bitch. It took him a little while, but he managed to free his hands. The first thing he did was pull the gag off and toss it clear of the bloodbath. He'd kill before he got blood on that particular piece of fabric. Blood was one of the few stains he was good at cleaning out of regular cotton or wool. But silk? Forget it.

A quick twist of the leg freed his feet and he shakily stood up. The bathroom was fairly threadbare. Nothing to bandage himself up with in here. But the next room over, a living room with sheets all over it to keep the dust off the furniture, proved more adequate. Sheets were ripped into bandages and tied rather tightly over the areas of exposed flesh, where the small boy had stripped away the skin. The was no doubt in Claire's mind. Czeslaw Meyer was dead meat.

Odd, but interestingly enough, the boy had abandoned the knife in a corner, along with his bloodied clothing. Claire didn't dwell on it long. The only thoughts making it through his head currently were on revenge. Graham would be found and killed later. This brat was going to get it the moment he walked through that door. Claire sat down on the sofa, content to wait. For now...

**TwinsOfABlackRose**

Claire found himself a small hiding spot behind the door, the sheets were working good to hold his wounds together but the pain still throbbed throughout his body. The only good he could say it would do would make adrenalin rush through his body making his reactions faster than they had been when he fought Graham. The glint in his eye, the redness that was once used by the Rail tracer, beamed brightly as he awaited his prey.

He looked warily over at the back of the door where he had tied the silk handkerchief so it would avoid the splatter of blood he was sure they would come into contact with. He looked back down at the floor and his blood soaked clothes, it gave him that feeling of power he had when he punished those on the transcontinental train. An overpowering feeling of invincibility, although he had been shown he was not.

Claire heard two sets of footsteps and the sound of metal dragging along the ground outside. Wonderful. He could finish of Graham at the same time. The door swung open and Czeslaw led in Graham following in after him.

"Ah this smell! This Texture! This knowing that somewhere the great assassin Vino quivers in our midst of the strength of my own fist," Graham started to rant and swing with spanner, "ah watching such a sad tale unravel is such an interesting piece don't you agree little mouse? I bet he's pissin' his pants right now in fear!"

"I wouldn't count my eggs yet," Claire said slashing the knife across Graham's back along with a quick disarming attempt leaving him with the oversized blood-stained spanner in his hand; he was ready for whatever they could throw at him. He was ready to grind this little kid to dust.

Czeslaw brought his hands together in a slow sarcastic clap stepping closer to Claire; he looked up at him innocently. New clothes and fresh washed hair; Ennis spoiled this kid way too much for his own good.  
"You may have a hold of Mister Graham's main weapon but it still doesn't mean you have won," he stepped closer before lightly kicking the assassin's shin, "you have to keep your distance or you'll fall apart correct?"

Claire smirked back at him, true he had a single weakness now but he wasn't going to let that stop him. No, nothing was going to stop him because he couldn't die. If he died the world would disappear. He laughed, "I find you amusin' kid an' if you din't come afta me I wouldn't have ta kill ya right now," he shook his head, "I was quite all right with ya livin' an' all but now, no that just won't do. I know I can't kill ya but I'm sure I could seal ya away or make it so you'd never show that little face around me again. I do hope you're not too attached to your limbs~"

The apparent kid swallowed deeply taking a couple of small steps backward, "G-graham!" He spluttered falling back, memories of being dragged along the tracks finding their way back into his mind flashing in front of him in a violent whim. Clare was always so calm when carrying out tortures and the likes, the fact he was calm now showed that what he had done to him hadn't hurt the assassin in the least; or that he was able to cover it up at least.

Silence fell upon the room and the three males stood in a triangle of each other looking into their eyes.  
Czeslaw shaking in his boots but trying to remain calm.  
Graham grinning like a fool on the edge of another manic rant.  
Claire standing their calmly holding the knife and spanner.  
The room stank of blood, fitting for their final confrontation, and was barely lit. Small glints of the sun outside made their way in yet again messing with Claire's eyes that had adjusted to the dark but also creating eerie shadows and an aura that seemed to effect Czeslaw.

"Are ya scared?" Claire asked looking down at Claire, "I remember last time we meet you ran off screaming like a girl."

"You're not in a position to talk big," Graham spat reaching for the closest object; a broken metal towel rack, "just so you know I'm just as good with improvised weaponry as I am with my main."

Claire nodded dropping the spanner to the ground standing out from behind the door to look Graham in the eye, "Then let's do this."

Graham ran toward Claire swinging down the towel rack, "Listen up," he said swinging around to follow Claire as he darted around the room, "of a sad tale of a dead dog who thought he could fight off the big bad wolf~"

"So that makes me the big bad wolf," Claire made his way closer to Graham slashing the knife across his cheek, he quickly moved back putting the weight on his more stable leg, "because I am not dead yet and I don't plan on dying...ever really," the next thing he did would have been considered amazing for a normal person and put a great strain onto Claire.

He ran toward Graham clasping the edge of the pole and with a quick flick of his wrist twisted around Graham's elbow pushing him to the ground. He wrenched the pole from his fist throwing it aside bringing the knife down onto his shoulder. Graham gave a pained cry and another when the knife was pulled back but still reached for his spanner. Now in his own territory Graham stood holding it firmly in his hand.

"Looks like you popped your head," he laughed, "sucha sad tale of a dead dog who's head burst~"

Claire felt his temple, dammit the wound had opened up again.

"You should mop that blood up," Graham reached for the handkerchief throwing it onto Claire's forehead. The clean pristine white silk mixed with the red quickly spreading across soiling the embroidery.

Claire's hand reached, again, to his forehead and he pulled the handkerchief off dropping it to the floor, in a split second his knife was in Graham's torso and he fell to the ground with a grunt.

"He's not dead," Claire said pulling the knife out walking over to Czeslaw, "and he won't die either, I've made sure of that." Claire collapsed to the ground with a groan, panting. He had used all his energy up in that one fight and his vision was starting to blur.

"I still need to get you," he grunted biting his lip leaning his head back, okay this was not cool. The great assassin Vino couldn't be shown to have such weakness. He refused that possibility as he fought for consciousness letting out a series of grunts and groans.

Czeslaw reached down to the handkerchief trying it around Claire's mouth, "While I love to see you in pain your voice is starting to irritate me," out of the child's mouth came words that sounded so horrible and sadistic looking down at the figure. Then he gave an innocent laugh, "I should be getting home Ennis and Firo will be wondering where I am~"

As he left Claire wondered if Firo would help him. Probably not.

~~~~

Claire's eyes darted open, he stood pulling the gag from his mouth shoving it roughly into his pocket, "I hafta get home," he pulled himself up limping out of the house and down the road. It took him a while before he worked out where home was, he unlocked the door and walked in. He picked up the note on the table and sighed collapsing in a chair. Luck was gone on business.

He reached for Luck's bottle of scotch opening it putting the nozzle in his mouth drinking much more than what was healthy for him in his state but he didn't care. If he could keep the pain at bay until Luck got home...no...

A smirk came across his face as he stood; he didn't need anyone's help. Why had it taken him this long for him to come out from his mood? Now he was ready. He was going to win this battle.

**LOKIforDREAMS  
**

Claire spent the night in Luck's empty room. It wasn't because he was worried anymore. Instead, it was the only place he found the first aid kit and a bottle of aspirin. That and the rest of the booze in the house ensured that he healed with the least amount of pain possible. After the amount of skin that brat had removed, he needed all of it. Luck wouldn't mind, would he?

As soon as he got into the first aid bandages, he officially assessed his injuries. The skin on both right limbs was completely stripped. His head now had a scabbed gash and a bruise down the left side that was turning a nasty yellow-purple. And his neck was circled with small bruises in the shape of a child's hand. Claire was lucky that, because of the way he was tied, the child hadn't been able to get to his torso so easily. That wasn't to say he hadn't gotten kicked several times once he'd passed out.

Basically, he looked like crap. And he felt like crap. So he stayed where he was on Luck's bed. And he stayed there until night fall the next day. That was the point he got up and changed out of his bloody clothes. If he was going to heal, and more importantly, if he was going to get his revenge, he needed food. And Luck hadn't left any in the apartment. Annoyed, Claire decided to kill two birds with one stone.

He slid a knife into his trench coat pocket and limped out the door. The cold was kind of refreshing for the tail end of a hangover. He started walking down the block, thought for a moment at the corner, and turned around to the other direction. How screwed up did the last few days have to be that he'd forgotten which direction the Alveare was?

A week ago, Claire had just gotten back after a job in Chicago. The entire world had been in order. Life had been going just fine. Then Czeslaw Meyer happened. And things had dropped faster than Ladd Russo off the side of the train. It was insane!

Claire ended up sitting at a table in the dining room of the Alveare with a glass of red wine. Ironically fitting. He was waiting for some indication that the boy was in the building. Probably, he would be sticking close to Ennis until the sun went down and he would go to Luck's apartment again, looking to kill Claire. But the assassin planned to get the jump on him.

"Heya Claire! Hows it goin there buddy?" Claire started, almost pulling the knife. Firo dropped into the seat across from him. Claire smiled, not really paying Firo that much attention. But even if the brunette wasn't the smartest guy on the planet, he wasn't totally imperceptive. He knew Claire wasn't his usual cheerful self. He gave off a bloodthirsty feeling. A distracted one, but the red head was going to kill someone before tomorrow. "Hey Claire, What's amatter?"

Claire shrugged. "You seen the kid? Czes? I need ta talk ta the kid." Firo knew that tone of voice though. It wasn't a talking tone. "Now why don I believe dat?"

"Alright, so I don wanna talk to him. I'm lookin ta kill the brat."

"Claire!" Firo jolted. "What? He'll recover. Eventually."


	5. Like Blood 5 end

**TwinsOfABlackRose**

Claire walked down the street quickly, his irritated glare staring down at the snowy footpath. Why was Firo chasing him? Okay fine, he could see why he wanted to protect Czes but they knew each other longer. It wasn't fair. Was this anger? Jealousy he felt? He shook his head turning around.  
"Where's tha brat?" He spat.

"Whoa whoa Claire calm down," Firo moved his hands gently coming to a stop, "listen I'm sure we can work this out peacefully y'know?"

"No," Claire said, he could say that the brat tried to kill him but he would not and was not prepared to admit weakness especially to Firo, "anyway I think I know where I can find him," he said with a smile continuing to walk. Claire tried to block out Firo's voice from behind him and quickly slid down the small curb and started to go across the road. Or at least he tried to.

"Nghn..." he grunted clasping his leg.

"Claire!" Firo ran down attempting to lift him up, "You're injured aren't you? What do ya think ya doin' trying to take on a kid in dis state?"

"Leave me alone and mind your own business," he said stepping up starting to limp toward the train station, Luck would be coming back soon. He had to apologize for what he did to his handkerchief. He wasn't bothered with the brat at the moment, "Czeslaw isn't at the train station right?"

"No..." Firo replied standing and following Claire, "he's at home with Ennis...why do you ask?" He got ready to either hold back Claire or run back home if he chose to do that. But something told him that the assassin would do no such thing.

"Good," he said with a smile, "no one will be interfering then!"

~~~~

Claire waited with a coffee in his hand for the train to stop, he watched as the passengers piled off and he walked over to Luck as he got off, "You would not believe my week," he said handing the coffee to his older brother, "but I think I've got it all worked out and I know you've been worrying so I want you to know you can stop."

Luck glanced down at the coffee than back at Claire, "You okay Clai-...Vino?" He corrected himself quickly not looking for another talk from Claire. He looked over his shoulder and saw Firo with his normal look and a smile.

"Yeah," he said starting to walk. He said nothing about his double-limp and his toes dragging along the ground and the bandages around his fingertips. Luck stared at them with a small frown but he too said nothing knowing that if he had gone through that much he probably didn't want to talk.

"Anyway I need to tell you something..." Claire said walking around a corner, his aim; to find somewhere that Czeslaw Meyer and Graham Spector could not and would not be able to find him.

Luck nodded following him, "If you say so..."

Firo followed along silently watching Claire's feet, all the while wondering what had been going on. This was something he needed to stick his nose into.

**LOKIforDREAMS**

Claire limped with his brother out the where the Flying Pussyfoot was being reconstructed after Graham had gotten done with it. Luckily, the maniac had left all the pieces lying on the ground intact, so work was proceeding smoothly. "Look, bro, while you were gone, I kinda-"

He was cut off by footsteps. He would have guessed it was Firo, but these were much too light, and anyways Firo was sitting in the train's half completed dining car. He turned, and froze, the fires of anger flaring in his chest.

"Hey Firo! Ennis says dinner is-" Czes stopped there. He'd been expecting to find the green suited mafioso here, but standing there was the man he'd been unsuccessfully been trying to kill for the past five or six days now. Why the hell was he here? Damn, it must have been he'd come to see the train. The train Czes had told that spanner-wielding crazy man to destroy . . . Czes turned and fled.

Claire went after the small boy without a moment's hesitation. This kid was quick. Figures since he was so light and small. But Claire had the advantage of years of training. Forgotten was the injuries that should have kept him to a snail's pace. He was just flying along. He wouldn't escape this time, Claire knew that. Locked on to his target, he caught Czes trying to climb the fire escape in a dead end alleyway and pulled him down.

Czes screamed, trying to get help. But Firo and Luck weren't around, and in this area of town, screams were commonly heard and ignored. Claire pulled the knife he'd brought from his jacket sleeve and swiftly cut the boys voice box. The scream choked out and Czes grasped his neck, backing away. Claire followed, knowing the child wouldn't get far. True enough, Czes soon hit the back wall of the alley and slid down, trying to scoot back into the wall.

Picking the small immortal up by his healing neck, Claire swiftly drove the knife home between the boy's ribs just below his heart, and held it there. Unable to push the blade out, the wound remained open. And the child vomited blood. "Ya know, Czes? What the worst wounds are? When ya take a knife, and ya cut inta the stomach, so all the stomach acids leak into the resta your body. Let's try it, shall we?"

Czeslaw Meyer had been through hot pokers, fireplaces, and numerous other tortures before. But the next thirty minutes with the assassin called Vino, and he would rather have been able to die. He had his guts ripped out and played with, his heart lay beating in Vino's hand for about five minutes before he died and it was pulled back into his chest, his hand was severed inch by inch while his arm was squeezed and pretty but milked for blood. And there was worse. Czes figured that he had died more times in that half an hour than he'd died in the past hundred years. The only thing that saved him was the timely arrival of Luck.

Luck Gandor slowed to a stop, having followed the metallic scent of blood and the choked screams. He really didn't want to look around that corner and so called out, "Clai- Vino! Come on, let's go home!" Claire looked down at the currently dying body in front of him, he leaned down to whisper, "Sorry, Kid. I gotta be goin' now. But don you worry. We'll get more time ta play later. Don't you go gettin' devoured or nothin on me. Yer ass is mine." He then walked out of the alley as if nothing had ever happened.

"Sorry bout that, Bro. I jus had ta take care of somethin."

**TwinsOfABlackRose  
**

Luck waited around the corner for Claire trying to erase the image of what he had seen. Sure he had seen his fair share of blood and guts but there was something in the way that Vino worked that was sickening. He couldn't complain though, he and the rest of his family needed and regularly wanted his skills to finish jobs for them. It worked perfectly.

Claire was taking much too long finishing the job off, Luck pulled out his deck of cards picking out the aces and dropping them. Then the kings, then the queens, then the jacks and finally the jokers before going onto each individual card and suit and so on and so forth before he finally dropped the card case to the ground turning back to the assassin.

"Come on Claire," he groaned as Claire jumped down running closer to him, "I don't want to be spending too much time around the body as it heals."

Claire nodded and started to walk after Luck, however the pain of his injuries caught up with him. He could feel the wounds open and his legs start to ache; he collapsed to the ground panting and trying to push the pain to the back of his mind once again. Blood started to come up onto his black coat, and this time it wouldn't fly back to the body.

"L-luck..." he whispered holding his stomach gently before falling to his side straining to forget, it wasn't all that bad but the running had done a number on his legs. One which would mean he couldn't do any rail tracing for a couple of months.

"Come on Claire," he said lifting him up, he felt stupid and he was sure that Claire felt very stupid and foolish too with the situation he had gotten himself into so he didn't push the point any further.

He had a good grasp on his brother taking the back alley ways and watching the stars come out, then he remembered when they were kids and he himself had tripped and fell and Claire had piggy-backed him all the way home and they looked at the stars. He then remembered the clean handkerchief and wondered if it was still on him. Then he remembered that Claire wanted to talk to him, "What did ya wanna talk about?"

"I'm sorry Luck..." he whispered reaching into his pocket pulling out the now red and scrunched handkerchief, "I-i tried my best but it wasn't enough...your father made you this...and I ruined it...I'm sorry..."

Luck laughed, "It doesn't matter!" He smiled down at him as they reached his house, "I gave it to you when your parents died anyway, I never expected it back. That small piece of silk in your hand was my way of sort of proving that I was your new family, it was to make you forget or at least smile...that's all I wanted...and I got it."

Claire looked up smiling, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Luck said laying Claire down in his own room, "Vino."

**END**


End file.
